Singing in the Rain
by BuryTheHatchet
Summary: It is late. All she wants is to go home, and yet her beloved red car will not start. Coupled with the bad weather, is it fate or is there a better explanation, one involving a carefully planned and executed mission. So much TIVA you will not know what hit you. This summary is not good, I might have to change it if I can think of something better to say.
1. Singing in the Rain

**It was raining and I like the rain and I was thinking about good things that come out of the rain. Another story I wrote on the bus. I think I spend too much time on the bus.**

 **To be fair, only the first part was written on the bus, but I had the idea for the whole thing on the bus.**

Singing in the Rain

"Agh!" Ziva's cry of frustration was loud enough to be heard in a ten mile radius, so it was no surprise when Tony waltzed over, grinning from ear to ear, no doubt thinking of some funny comment to make. "Whatever you are about to say, DiNozzo, I suggest you shut it right now before I stop taking my anger out on this wheel and start taking it out on you!" She continued to kick the rubber tyre of her red Mini's wheel.

"Actually, I was going to offer you a lift home."

"Well, I do not need a lift." She huffed.

"Then how're you gonna get home?"

"I will walk."

"It's a long way, Ziva."

"I have walked further."

"It's raining."

"Then I shall run!" She snapped.

"Why won't you accept a lift from me?"

"Because…because…" She couldn't think of a reason, other than that she wanted to go home and have a bath and try and keep her mind away from the man standing in front of her.

"See, come on." He picked her bag up and slung it on his shoulder opposite to the one that his was sat on. He opened the boot of his Mustang and placed the two backpacks in, smiling when she continued to pout from where she stood two cars down. "If you're worried about me doing something inappropriate, then I give you my word as a gentleman that I will not."

"Ha." She snorted, but walked over to the passenger door and narrowed her eyes at him over the top of the canvas roof.

"Hey! I can be a gentleman!"

"I shall believe this when I see it." She shook her head, a smirk clear on her lips. She knew he could be a gentleman, on the odd occasion when he let his caveman façade down. Like the time she had accompanied him to dinner when his date – Monica, was it? – had turned out to be married. Or when they were undercover together. Behind all the jokes, he had been a gentleman, constantly checking that she was okay, and that he wasn't hurting her in any way or making her feel uncomfortable. Her teasing expression faded to a much more subtle smile and she nodded gently, letting him know that she trusted him as she climbed into his car. He pulled out of the parking structure and Abby grinned to herself, wiping her oily hands on a piece of rag cloth hanging from her tool belt. She walked over to the red Mini and opened the bonnet, pulling the spark plugs out of the pocket of her red NCIS overalls.

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…" Tony slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel as his Mustang ground to a holt. He was going to kill Abby when he saw her. He had told her to mess with Ziva's car, not his too. He had just wanted an excuse to give her a lift home.

"Tony, please do not tell me that your car has just broken down."

"Uh, okay…" He sighed and leaned his head back against the headrest.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me. How can _both_ of our cars break down on the same night?"

"I…don't know." He shrugged and looked away.

"You had something to do with it, yes?"

"Whoa, now, why is it all of a sudden my fault? I can't help it if my car breaks down."

"Then why do you look so guilty?"

"Because I always look guilty about something?" He suggested, wincing when she smacked his shoulder. "Ow! What was that for?"

"That was for convincing me to take a lift with you. And for not checking your fuel gauge." She pointed to the dial on the dash. It read below empty. He groaned. He had been so distracted by her that he had completely ignored the warning signs.

"No! My baby hates it when I run her on no fuel!" He whimpered and started caressing the steering wheel. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry. I won't ever do it again."

"Tony, as much as your love for your car is endearing and a little more than slightly disturbing, I want to go home."

"Well, I'm sorry, Ziva, but unless you want to walk you'll just have to wait until I can get someone to come out with fuel." He glared at her.

"Then I shall walk. That is what I was going to have done anyway, were it not for your stupid offer and your stupid car!" She climbed out into the torrential downpour and started jogging in the direction of her apartment. Tony groaned and slammed his fist against the window before climbing out and chasing after her.

"Ziva, wait! Ziva!" She was soaked from head to toe by the time he caught up to her and she looked furious.

"What, Tony? What do you want?" She sounded resigned, like she had given up all hope.

"To make you smile."

"Tony, I am not in the mood for riddles."

"It's a mile to your apartment still. You have not smiled once since we stepped out of the elevator to go home."

"So you want to make me smile." She sighed and started walking away.

"Yeah, and I'm not going to leave you until you smile." He walked next to her, wiping the water off of his face, only for it to be replaced seconds later. He followed her as she ignored him, wondering how far into their long walk she would finally crack.

* * *

Their laughter filled the dark night as they rounded the corner onto Ziva's street at a jog. He wasn't really certain how the came of tag had started, but he was certain that it had filled his brief to make her smile. She was walking backwards, still facing him, as they drew closer to the doors to her apartment block, a smile wide on her face. The rain still hammered down around them, but neither noticed as they stopped under a streetlamp, both completely absorbed in the others eyes. They both stepped closer to one another, haloed by the yellow light of the sodium-vapour lamp. Smiles faded to serious expressions as he brushed her wet hair out of the way and cupped her face with his hand. He leaned down, hesitating slightly, before capturing her lips with his own. They moved softly together, a contrast to the hard rain that pelted them from all angles. But they didn't mind the wet or the cold, they barely even registered it. All they knew and all they needed was in their arms. Tony had his world; Ziva had her life. Neither knew how much the other needed it, but they both knew that they themselves wanted it more than anything, and sensible, reasoning thought be damned, they were going to indulge themselves, even if it was just this once. God knew they deserved it. Tony deepened the kiss, pressing one hand against the small of her back and moving the other to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. She was bent backwards slightly as they each fought hungrily for control, her hands on his shoulders, her nails digging in slightly. "God, you're beautiful." Tony mumbled, fishing for the keys to her apartment in the back pocket of her jeans as she nibbled on his ear.

"Other pocket." She whispered, knowing that she was not patient enough to wait for him any longer. They stumbled back towards the door, keeping contact with one another at all times, and Ziva, with her back pressed against the glass door and her front pressed against Tony's solid body, typed in the code for the building. She had to type it in three times before getting it right, since she was doing it only by touch and was a little preoccupied. "Elevator." She pushed him towards the metal carriage, for the first time in her tenancy using the lift to take her to the top floor instead of taking the stairs. Their lips scarcely left one another's for the entire journey, only breaking apart for oxygen. The elevator dinged and the metal doors slid open. They staggered out and managed to find their way to her door. She fumbled with her key, trying and failing to unlock her door as Tony pressed kisses to the back of her neck. "Tony. Stop. Please." She laughed breathlessly.

"Nope." He grinned. He was relentless. Their laughs grew louder as he continued, causing her elderly neighbour to open the door.

"Ziva, my dear, what is going on out…oh." The woman's eyes widened as the couple were successful in opening the door. Ziva twisted in Tony's arms so she was back to facing him as he pressed his lips to her collar bone.

"Sorry Mrs Garibaldi!" She called, laugher in her voice as she reattached her lips to Tony's.

"Yeah, sorry Mrs G.!" Tony waved a hand and closed the door behind him, not noticing the smile on the older woman's face or hearing her mutter 'Glad you've found each other finally' as they started to pull their sopping clothes off, discarding them in a trail leading to the bedroom.

Tomorrow morning was going to be difficult to say the least, but the obvious solution to that was to sleep past lunch.

Or stay in bed until then, at the least.

 **For my reference: 23** **rd** **NCIS fic.**


	2. Angel of the Morning

**I had not planned upon continuing this. At all. But then, I just could not help myself. I think I need to buy some more self control. I shall have to add that to my shopping list, right under 'a life'.**

 **Based the morning after. Obviously.**

Angel of the Morning

"I thought you were tired." Tony mumbled as they kissed lazily.

"Not any more." She ran a hand through his hair and grinned. Her phone rang for the third time that morning.

"Ziva, no." Tony gripped her wrist as she tried to reach for the cordless phone on the table at the side of her bed and rolled over to straddle her, pinning her to the bed. "We haven't had a weekend off in three weeks. Whoever it is can wait for two days."

"What if it is Gibbs?"

"Screw Gibbs."

"I would rather not." She caught his lips in a passionate kiss, rolling over so she was on top. Her long hair tumbled down and tickled his cheek. "You on the other hand…"

"You're insatiable." Tony chuckled and a frown creased her forehead.

"You mean you did not already know that?" She mocked puzzlement as he grinned. The phone rang again and this time neither of them even acknowledged it as their mouths collided and they continued the activities of earlier that morning.

They didn't notice it ring the fifth or sixth time, either. Nor that neither of their mobiles were ringing, due to the fact that they were sat in their backpacks, in the boot of Tony's car, which had been left on a roadside after it had run out of fuel.

They did, however, notice the loud knocking on the door. "I'll get it." Tony sighed, the rate of the knocking increasing along with the volume level. He pulled his boxers on from the previous night, his clothes still in a soggy heap on the floor, and made his way to the door, turning up the thermostat as he did so.

"OFFICER DAVID, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE…DINOZZO!" Gibbs voice could have been heard on the moon when he yelled Tony's name. Ziva felt her world come crumbling down around her and she crumpled her face, letting out a slight whimper as she swung her legs out of bed and grabbed Tony's damp shirt. Gibbs and McGee stood on her doorstep, McGee looking embarrassed, almost as embarrassed as Tony looked, and Gibbs looking furious. "What the hell do you two think you're playing at?" Gibbs voice was deathly quiet now and Ziva could hear her heart beating in her chest.

"Uh, you see Boss, we were playing strip poker, and…"

"DiNozzo!"

"We broke rule twelve, Boss." He looked down, ashamed.

"And rule three." Gibbs snapped.

"What? What didn't we double check?" Tony looked thoroughly confused.

"I think he meant the other rule three, Tony." McGee said. "I'm gonna go sit in the car." He ran as fast as he could out of the building to avoid Gibbs anger being turned on him.

"It's our weekend off, Gibbs. You can't just call us in whenever you want, we have lives, y'know!"

"Ziva, do either of your phones have problems?"

"No, Gibbs."

"Then why did you not pick up?"

"Because my mobile is in Tony's car, and because we were…"

"Busy." Tony interjected. Gibbs grit his teeth and glared at the two agents. Both had messy hair but, apart from being pissed at his presence, had a serene quality about them.

"You've got fifteen minutes. Shower. Dress."

"No." Tony and Ziva said at the same time, exchanging a glance.

"No?"

"No. We're not coming into work on our weekend off. We're the only team who has to work through holidays, who has to work past when everybody else has gone home. No." Tony shook his head.

"No?" He was still stuck on that one word. Nobody said no to him. He was Gibbs.

"No. Whatever it is, whoever's dead, will still be dead on Monday."

"You've got ten minutes or I wouldn't bother coming in on Monday."

"Are you threatening us?" Ziva frowned. She trusted Gibbs, with her life.

"Shower. Now. Separately." He stormed off.

"I can't believe this." Tony grumbled and headed towards the bedroom, leaving Ziva to close the door, speechless.

* * *

"Young man! You come back here young man!" Gibbs turned to see a little old lady hobbling out of the main door to Ziva's building. He didn't have time for this. "What did you go and yell at them for. They meant no harm!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Young Tony and Ziva."

"Who are you?" He was really losing his patience.

"Mrs Garibaldi. I live across the hall from Ziva and I heard everything you said to her and that young lad Tony. She is the nicest tenant in the building. She and Tony used to join me for Sunday dinner whenever they were available. Such sweet people. I presume you are Gibbs. You don't live up to their praise. They say you are the best man either of them have ever met, but the way I see it you are nothing but a grumpy old man. Give them a break."

"I'm not just angry that they don't want to work on the weekend. They broke my rules." He tried to defend himself.

"Oh, I know. They've told me all about the rules, number twelve in particular. They both dislike that rule the most. Although they never talk about it together, only when Ziva is helping with my groceries or when Tony is helping me reach a jar from the top shelf of the cupboard whilst he waits for her. And God knows they've spent a long time waiting for each other. Last night was the start of something good, and you may just have ruined that. What are you going to say for yourself?"

"Nothing. They're in the wrong."

"You really are a grumpy old man. Why does number twelve even exist?"

"To protect everyone."

"You mean because you were hurt, they can't be happy." Mrs Garibaldi shook her head and rolled her eyes. "It's childish behaviour. You can't protect them from inevitability."

"But I can protect them from themselves."

"Not forever." She shook her head. "Do you care for them at all?"

"They're my team, of course I do."

"Then let them grow up. Let them fly the nest. They need to learn for themselves." She sighed. "Those two, they are like wild animals, and wild animals will always desire their freedom, no matter how well you treat them, or how much you warn them of the outer world. They'll come back to you eventually, they just need to work out their own way in life."

"And how do you supposed I do that?"

"Start by abolishing rule twelve. Give your team the weekend off. Join us for dinner tomorrow." She smiled and walked back, leaving Gibbs stood on the street looking rather confused. He walked slowly back to the dodge charger and sat down, rubbing his forehead before turning to McGee.

"Something wrong, Boss?"

"Go home, Tim. Have the weekend off. Take Abby to a concert or poetry reading or whatever it is that you two do together. Write some more of your book."

"What about the paperwork that the director wanted?"

"It can be done on Monday." Gibbs sighed. What was he saying? This wasn't what he was supposed to be saying. He was Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

And he had been in love once too, and he had had a boss who worked him through weekends. He knew how his team felt.

"Are you sure, Boss?"

"No, McGee, I'm not." He covered his face with his hand. "Tell Tony and Ziva to be in the office bright and early Monday morning. Go on, go." McGee frowned but darted out of the car, running back up to the apartment. He pounded on the door again.

"What?!" Ziva flung the door open, nearly pulling it off of it's hinges. She was showered and dressed, her damp hair pulled into a messy plait. She looked less than happy. McGee could hear the shower running.

"Er, Gibbs has given us the weekend off. No need to come in. He said be there bright and early Monday morning." He smiled sheepishly and Ziva's tense body immediately relaxed into a more laid back posture.

"Thank you, McGee. I will see you then." She had already pulled her sweater over her head as she shut the door and her cargo pants and camisole were soon to join the woollen article on the floor as she made her way towards the bathroom.

* * *

"Oh, no! Come on! Ziva, that was my potato!" Tony cried as she popped the roasted vegetable into her mouth and grinned across at him.

"You had not eaten it." She shrugged.

"Yet. I had not eaten it _yet_." He pouted. Mrs Garibaldi smiled as she watched the exchange in front of her. She had missed having them round for Sunday lunches. It gave her someone to talk to, gave her company which she did not usually get.

"I wanted another potato."

"And you had to steal it from my plate? You couldn't have taken one from the whole bowl of potatoes right there in the middle of the table?"

"No." She shook her head and grinned as she began trailing her foot lightly up his leg where she sat opposite him. He reached below the table and gripped her ankle before she could reach any higher than mid thigh and the elderly woman rolled her eyes. She stood up when a sharp knock sounded on the door.

"I'll get it. And I suggest you two sort your behaviour out."

"Of course." Ziva sat bolt upright, both feet on the ground, looking as innocent as she could. Tony narrowed his eye at her and stuck his tongue out.

"Goodie two shoes."

"I can be bad too, if you want, Tony." She whispered huskily, leaning across the table.

"I'd prefer you didn't David." Gibbs said, standing in the entranceway to the dinning room.

"Gibbs! I thought…McGee said that you were giving us the weekend off!" Tony cried, flushing a deep scarlet.

"I did. Mrs Garibaldi invited me over for Sunday roast." He stood uncomfortably. "It was very kind of her, after the way I behaved." Tony and Ziva exchanged a glance.

"Well, that's Mrs G. for you. Kindest woman alive."

"What? I am not the kindest woman alive?" Ziva gasped in mock shock.

"No, you're the scariest woman alive. And the most beautiful. And, to my knowledge, the best in bed, and that is a subject upon which my knowledge is very vast." He grinned until a hand collided with the back of his head. "Sorry, Boss. Forgot you were there."

"You forget where you are, too?"

"Nah, Mrs G. doesn't mind, do you?"

"No, Tony. Their flirting reminds me of my younger days." She smiled.

"Aw, you're still young to me, Mrs G." Tony stood up and walked over, pressing a kiss to her cheek before pulling her chair out so she could sit down. Ziva joined him in laying a place for Gibbs.

"They are too kind to me. Such good people." She smiled.

"Well, it was Gibbs who taught us our manners." Tony said as he sat down.

"Hey! I had manners when I arrived."

"You killed with kindness." He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"I do not know how one would kill with kindness, however it sounds a lot cleaner than many methods I know."

"I am _so_ glad that you don't know how to kill with kindness. Doesn't stop me from being scared of you on occasion."

"Only on occasion?" She sniggered.

"Okay, there are occasions when you don't scare me. Very…rare occasions." He gulped as she twirled her knife in her fingers, a smirk on her face, making the two older people laugh. And with that all tension caused by Gibbs interruption had dissipated, they spent the rest of dinner laughing and joking, well into the late hours of the night, until Gibbs excused himself and Tony and Ziva made their way across to Ziva's apartment, sleep the last thing on their minds.


End file.
